by Amanda Cabot
In one fluid motion, he spanned the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her to him. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered his lips to hers.
18
His lips were warm and tender, their gentle touch sending pleasure spiraling through her. Catherine closed her eyes, not wanting anything to distract her from the wonder of her first kiss, for it was indeed wonderful. Mama had told her that the love between a man and woman was one of God’s greatest gifts, and with Austin’s arms around her, his lips pressed to hers, Catherine knew Mama had not exaggerated.
Afterward she could not have said how long the kiss lasted—seconds, minutes, hours—for time had seemed to stop while she was in Austin’s embrace. All Catherine knew was that when he broke away, she felt bereft.
“There’s nothing I would like more than to stay here forever,” Austin said, his voice husky with emotion, “but I’m afraid people will notice that we’re gone. I don’t want you subjected to gossip.”
And there would be gossip. Catherine knew that. For propriety’s sake, they had remained within sight of the park. That meant that anyone who’d been looking this direction would have seen the kiss. Catherine refused to let the thought that there might be new fodder for the grapevine bother her.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m glad we came to the bridge. I’m glad . . .” She paused. A lady should not admit how much she enjoyed a man’s kiss, at least not until they were married. Catherine knew that, but she also knew that Austin deserved honesty. “I’m glad we kissed,” she said firmly.
“So am I.”
Though his arms were no longer wrapped around her, Austin extended his hand, enfolding hers in his grip, and they walked slowly back to the park. Catherine’s feet may have been planted on the ground, but she felt as if she were soaring. Tonight was a night for firsts: her first kiss, and now her first time walking hand in hand with a man. These were milestones in a woman’s life, and she knew she would never forget either, because she’d shared them with Austin.
They spoke little as they returned to the park, and once there they separated, each dancing with other partners until the music ended and the crowd began to dissipate. Somehow Catherine managed to pretend that it was an ordinary church social, but all the while she found herself looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Austin. Was this love, this feeling that he was the most important person in the world, that she was complete only when she was with him? Catherine didn’t know. All she knew was that her heart beat faster when he approached to walk her home.
They strolled down Main Street, their pace even slower than it had been when they’d had to accommodate Hannah’s shorter stride, and once again Austin held her hand in his rather than placing it on the crook of his arm. Catherine welcomed the slower speed. If only this night would never end!
Would he kiss her again? The question reverberated through her brain when they reached her home and walked toward the front door. She hoped he would—oh, how she hoped he would. Their first kiss had been more wonderful than she had dreamed possible. Surely the second would be just as memorable.
As they stood on the front stoop, Austin gave her one of those smiles that melted her heart, leaving her feeling as if she were the only woman in the world.
“I don’t want to say good night,” he said softly, “so I won’t, although it was a very good night.”
He raised his hand and cupped her cheek, his fingers straying to trace the outline of her lips. Catherine closed her eyes for a second, savoring the sensation. When she opened them, she saw Austin smiling.
“Thank you for making my first Cimarron Creek church social special. I’ll never forget it.” And then her wish came true as Austin punctuated his words with another kiss.
“How was your evening?” Grace asked when Catherine entered the house a minute later.
“Perfect. Simply perfect.”
The sermon was longer than usual, causing Hannah and several other parishioners to fidget. Catherine, however, found herself riveted by Pastor Dunn’s words. Today he’d chosen the story of the woman who had bled for twelve years but was healed by touching Jesus’s robe. Her faith, Jesus had told the unnamed woman, had made her well.
It was a story Catherine had heard dozens of times, but always before the story had ended with the woman’s miraculous healing. Today, though the minister spoke of it, he reminded the congregation that before Jesus’s ascension, he charged his disciples to continue his work, pointing out that Mark 16:18 specifically mentioned healing the sick as part of that work.
“Each one of us has a God-given talent,” Pastor Dunn concluded. “For some, it’s raising a family. For others, it’s growing crops or ranching. For still others, it’s healing. No one talent is better than any other. They’re all valuable. That’s why God gave them to us. So I charge you to reflect on the talent you’ve been given and ensure that you’re using it to God’s glory.”
There was a murmur of assent as the congregation absorbed the minister’s words. Catherine did not nod. Instead, she bit her lip while questions filled her mind. Was there a reason Pastor Dunn had spoken of Jesus’s admonition to heal today? At one point, he had looked directly at her, as if he wanted to be certain she was listening. It almost seemed that he had been prompted to show her that she was wrong to fear doctors.
Catherine continued to gnaw on her lip as she pondered the sermon. Had she been wrong not to trust any doctors? Surely not everyone was like Doc Harrington. The woman in the Bible had been healed by her faith that Jesus could heal her. Faith alone hadn’t cured Mama, nor had it restored Grace’s skin. Maybe more than faith was needed. Maybe that was why Jesus had commissioned his disciples to go forth and heal the sick. Maybe that was why God had given some of his children the talent of healing.
Catherine felt her shoulders relax as her brain was flooded with new possibilities. It was too late for Mama, but perhaps someone could help Grace. Perhaps there were doctors who specialized in ailments of the skin. Catherine had searched her medical book and found nothing, but she knew the world of medicine was changing. The book had even mentioned how many advances had been made in less than a decade and how many more might happen in only a few years.
She owed it to Grace to continue searching for a way to restore her beauty. When Grace found her daughter—for Catherine refused to stop hoping and praying that that would happen—she needed to be able to embrace her child and talk face-to-face without the worry that her scars would repulse her daughter. There had to be a way to help Grace.
She looked more beautiful than ever this morning, or was it only that he was seeing Catherine with new eyes? Austin settled back in the pew, admitting that he wasn’t sure. As he’d returned home last night, he’d wondered if he’d be able to sleep after the kisses they’d shared. His mind kept replaying how wonderful it had felt to hold Catherine close and press his lips to hers and how the scent of her perfume had teased his senses. But the kisses weren’t the only things he remembered. He doubted he’d ever forget how good it had felt to walk with her hand clasped in his or how her eyes had sparkled when they’d said good night.
Despite the sweet memories that had whirled through his brain, he’d fallen asleep within minutes of climbing into bed. This morning, he’d wakened smiling and counting the minutes until he’d see her again. He’d planned to take his usual seat in the back of the church, but when he’d arrived, Hannah had insisted they sit with Catherine and Mrs. Sims. So here he was with only Hannah separating him from the woman who filled his thoughts.
When the service began, Austin had pushed thoughts of Catherine aside and gave himself up to worshipping his Lord. The hymns they sang were beautiful; the Scripture readings resonated through him; but it was the sermon that made him grateful he was in this particular church at this particular time, for it touched him more than any message he’d heard Reverend Dunn deliver.
Though Austin had heard numerous sermons about healing, this was the first time a minister had e
mphasized Jesus’s charge to the disciples rather than the miraculous healings he himself had performed. The minister’s admonition to use the talents God had given to glorify him resonated deep within Austin. He wasn’t a disciple, and he had performed no miracles in Philadelphia, but he knew the surgeries he’d conducted had improved his patients’ lives.
When he’d been in Philadelphia, he had believed he was doing God’s will, but since he’d moved to Texas, his healing had been limited to cattle. Was God disappointed in him? Was he wrong to have abandoned the calling that had once felt so strong? Austin hated the thought that the answer to both questions was probably yes.
If he’d been asked about the remainder of the service, Austin could not have recounted anything that had occurred, because his mind had continued to whirl with the questions Pastor Dunn’s words had triggered. When the congregation began to file out of the church, Austin noticed that Catherine also seemed distracted.
“Is something wrong?” he asked softly. Fortunately, Hannah had pushed past Catherine and was holding Mrs. Sims’s hand, leaving Austin standing next to Catherine.
“Why do you ask?” She seemed startled by his question.
“You look like you’re worried about something. I hope it’s nothing I did.” Did she regret the kisses they’d shared? Last night she’d said she had enjoyed them, but perhaps the light of day had made her see them differently.
She shook her head. “It’s nothing you’ve done. I didn’t realize it was so obvious, but yes, I am concerned about something.”
“Can I help?” Pushing his internal debate aside, Austin wondered if this was the answer to the prayers he’d offered only two days before when he’d sought a way to begin to repay Catherine for all that she’d done for him and Hannah.
Though the church was filled with the sounds of neighbors greeting neighbors, for once no one interrupted Austin’s conversation. Perhaps word had spread about that wonderful kiss on the bridge, or perhaps the sight of him sitting with Catherine had discouraged the matchmaking mamas. Regardless of the reason, Austin was grateful he could concentrate on Catherine.
“I don’t know.” The normally confident Catherine appeared uncertain. “I’m not sure anyone can, but . . .”
When she did not complete the sentence, Austin suspected it was because of her natural reluctance to ask anyone for help. “I’m a good listener,” he volunteered. It was a skill he’d learned as he’d trained to be a physician.
He and Catherine had reached the back of the church. When they’d greeted Reverend Dunn and complimented him on his sermon, Austin escorted Catherine to the door. A quick glance outside confirmed that Hannah had remained with Mrs. Sims.
“Why don’t we talk under that tree?” He pointed to the largest live oak. “No one will disturb us there, so you can tell me what’s bothering you.”
When she nodded her assent, he crooked his arm and waited for her to place her hand on it. Though he would have preferred to hold her hand, that seemed inappropriate when they were at church and in full view of the congregation.
“It’s Grace,” Catherine said when they reached the shelter of the tree. “She didn’t want anyone to know, but I suspect Hannah has told you that she wears that heavy veil because her face was scarred by smallpox.”
Austin nodded. “Hannah’s usually good about keeping secrets, but she told me about Mrs. Sims.” He wouldn’t tell Catherine that Hannah had divulged the secret because she knew Austin might be able to help the young widow.
“I thought that might be the case. That’s one of the reasons I feel comfortable talking to you about her. I also know that I can trust you not to tell anyone else.”
“Of course.” Confidentiality was another thing Austin had learned at medical school. “What’s bothering you about Mrs. Sims?”
“I’ve gotten used to the scars, but I know that most people would be repulsed by them. That makes life difficult for Grace. I want to help her, and I wish there were a way to minimize the damage. Today’s sermon made me wonder whether there are doctors who specialize in diseases of the skin. If there are, maybe one of them could help her.”
As the breeze blew a lock of her hair loose, Catherine tucked it back into her chignon. “My medical books claim that many of the advances originate in Europe. I know it’s a long shot, but you’re the only person I know who’s lived in Europe. I wondered if you’d ever heard of doctors like that.”
Though the subject was a serious one, Austin felt a jolt of pleasure. This was the first time Catherine had spoken of physicians as anything other than the devil’s spawn.
“I thought you didn’t trust doctors.” He had to be certain of her feelings before he volunteered anything.
She tipped her head to one side, her eyes filled with something that might have been regret. “It’s true that I don’t trust Doc Harrington, but what Pastor Dunn said made me realize I shouldn’t blame all doctors for one man’s failings. Jesus was the Great Physician, and he chose Luke—another doctor—as one of his disciples. It was wrong for me to be biased against all healers just because one did more harm than good.”
Thank you, God. Austin took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he realized that today’s sermon was no coincidence. He’d prayed for a way to help Catherine, and he’d been given far more than he’d asked for. Not only had the minister’s words opened Catherine’s heart, but they’d also reminded Austin of his calling and given him a possible way to use his talent for God’s glory.
“There are doctors who can change the shape of a person’s face by rebuilding broken noses, jaws, and cheekbones,” he told Catherine. When her eyes widened in what appeared to be awe, he continued. “They’re called plastic surgeons.” And he was one, though it was too soon to tell her.
“A few of them have had good success with severely burned skin. The technique they used would probably work on smallpox scars.” The excitement Austin saw reflecting from Catherine’s eyes made him thankful he was able to give her hope.
“That sounds like exactly what Grace needs. Could you help me locate one of those plastic surgeons? I imagine their fees are substantial, but my great-aunt left me a sizeable inheritance. I’m willing to spend it all to help Grace.”
That was the Catherine Austin knew—generous beyond all expectations. Though the surgeon he had in mind would not charge a fee, it was too soon to tell her that. He gave another silent prayer of gratitude that she hadn’t asked how he knew so much about plastic surgery, because he was not willing to reveal that here.
Austin looked across the yard at Hannah, now happily playing with other girls her age. Though his fears for her safety diminished each day that Sherman Enright or one of his minions did not find them, Austin still worried about the powerful man’s reach. Travis had kept his word and had contacted the Philadelphia police each month, but each month the answer had been the same: while no one had seen Enright, his operation continued.
Austin’s mind whirled, considering the possibilities. He wouldn’t do anything to put Hannah in danger, but there might be a way to help Mrs. Sims without anyone other than Catherine, Hannah, and the patient knowing what had happened.
No one else in Cimarron Creek had seen the scars. Instead, they believed the widow’s veil to be a sign of deep mourning. If the surgery was successful, Mrs. Sims would be able to remove the veil, claiming her mourning period had ended. She’d once again have a face she could show to the world, and as a result, she could live the normal life that Catherine wished for her.
Austin said another silent prayer of thanksgiving. Because of the talent he’d been given, he had a chance to help this woman reclaim her life.
“Do you think you can help me?” Catherine repeated her question.
There was only one answer. “I can.”
19
Catherine couldn’t quite identify Austin’s expression. It held hesitation, but something else was mingled with it, something that might be excitement. She was excited—no question about that. The
thought that Austin might be able to direct her to a plastic surgeon filled her with eager anticipation.
“You really think you could help me?” If so, it was an answer to many, many prayers.
Austin looked around. Though no one had approached them yet, he was clearly uncomfortable with the number of people who were only a few yards away. “Yes, but there are some things I need to tell you and Mrs. Sims in private.”
Catherine understood the need for privacy. Though she’d kept her voice low when speaking of Grace’s scars, she had also kept a watchful eye on the other parishioners, prepared to change the subject quickly if anyone approached.
“I wish I could invite you and Hannah to join us for dinner, but you know I always have Sunday dinner with my aunt and uncle. Perhaps supper?”
Austin shook his head. “There’s no need for a meal, and this is not something that Hannah should hear. I’ll take her back to the ranch. Seth promised to teach her to fish this afternoon.” The corners of Austin’s mouth turned up in a wry smile. “I doubt they’ll catch anything with the sun so high, but it’ll keep her occupied. I’ll plan to be back in town by three.”
“We’ll be waiting.” Catherine knew she’d be counting the minutes. She would have done that under any circumstance, but Austin’s desire for privacy made her brain whirl with unanswered questions.
Her questions multiplied as Austin took a step closer to her and said, “Please don’t tell anyone why I’m coming. You’ll understand the reason when you hear what I have to say.”
“All right. We’ll let the gossips assume you’ve come courting.”
Once again his expression changed, and this time Catherine had no difficulty identifying his emotion. He was apprehensive. Something about courting made Austin wary. There had been a time when she believed he was still grieving for his wife, but Catherine knew that was no longer true. There had been a time when she’d thought he was waiting for her mourning to end, but last night’s kisses seemed to disprove that theory. Now, other than the fact that she still believed Austin was harboring secrets, Catherine had no idea why he was wary.